I Heart Hunters
by WiseGurrl17
Summary: Cassie Jameson despises being a half-blood, and CHB, but above all: her own father. Furious, Cassie decides Camp Half-Blood has nothing to offer her anymore, nor does the home that worships her father as a compassionate romantic. But when Cassie runs away, it's not just about individualism, it's a race for her own survival after being pursued by a dangerously attractive assassin.
1. Cat Mouse Chase

Chapter 1: Cat-Mouse Chase

I crouch even lower, the fern fronds building a makeshift roof over my head. I hear the crunching of twigs and the rustling of leaves. My heart is pounding in my chest, for what could be one of two reasons. I sincerely doubt the second, but I don't push it away entirely.

The muscles in my legs are practically pulsing from suspense, waiting to sprint at any minute. The time is not right yet, that much I know. Everything has to go perfectly, or I'll never escape. Just a little bit longer, and it will all be over. I might not even have to run. I consider this again though, once I realize running may be the only way to alleviate the adrenaline coursing through my veins, to release my abundant, pent up energy.

But then why am I so nervous?

While I try to pinpoint a reason, my ears demand all my attention and concentration. The sound of the falling of footsteps is magnified immensely. The crack of each ill-fated twig is sharper, more prominent now. I doubt my own hearing for a moment, though. I'm shocked my hammering heartbeat hasn't drowned out the world around me. Surely he must hear it. Yes, he does. I know it. He's getting closer. The crunch of the debris of the forest floor under his chunky combat boots is proof of that.

This is how he will find me: huddled under some plants, my blond hair matted and wild, the mud streaked onto my face like war paint, the blood that has been collecting on my skin, caked and thick now that it has dried. I assure myself that this is it, and once I take off there will be no more turning back. Ever.

I begin to debate this with myself though, when I note that his footsteps have ceased. All is quiet in the shadowy twilight, not counting the occasional tweet of a bird or the chirp of a cricket. I hear a scuttling, sweeping sound. I look up to see he has easily brushed away the fronds and long grasses, my only sense of security, my makeshift camouflage. I finally settle on a decision- I'm done running. His tawny eyes flash, daring me to run, but I'm just as stubborn.

No, really, I am. But I run away anyway. I don't know why, I just do. I'd promised myself I wouldn't do this anymore, that I was done, yet my legs are pumping faster than they ever have in my life. I begin to crest the hill, and, without looking back, take off downhill. My own speed is mediocre to his agility, and I know that. He's surely running downhill by now, too. All other times he's given me head starts, matching his pace to mine. He's sick like that- he enjoys a good chase. But there's something different this time. He's done playing games- he's out for blood now. I can feel it.

His solid body slams into mine. His limbs get tangled in mine as we tumble down the remainder of the hill. I land roughly on my back, knocking the wind out of me, in a shallow creek. My head collides with something stony and impassive. I tilt my head to look. A decent size rock has a rivulet of my ruby blood trickling across its surface.

I realize I'm panting and that he's on top of me. I don't even realize I'm holding my breath until it bubbles up, caught inside my throat. I exhale heavily. His brass eyes scan mine. His lips close over mine before I can react.

"Gotcha." he smirks triumphantly.

He picks me up like a feather and wades, with me in his arms, in a much deeper part of the creek, his hauntingly beautiful face changing from a crystal clear image to something more disturbed and marred, something you would see out of a demented kaleidoscope minus all the trippy colors. My body's too numb to move. His face gives nothing away as he slips me underwater and I take a good, deep last breath.


	2. Blast from the Past

Chapter 2: Blast from the Pasr

~ Two weeks earlier ~

"Cassie." My brother's annoyingly musical voice drifts into my ear. I take a swipe at him, missing pathetically, or at least I think, since I'm lying face-down on my mattress. I flail pathetically, as of hoping to wipe the cobwebs fabricated by the sound waves from his voice to my ear. Silence. Maybe it's worked!

"Cass..."

"WHAT?"

"...Wake up..."

I give Alex my best death-stare. I'm good at those. "Mission accomplished," I say pouting. I flop back down onto my bed again.

"Cass, come on. Time to go."

I try to feel where his nose is...

Bingo.

"Where's the snooze button?" I start poking it incessantly.

"I hate you," he says shoving me, which is pretty ineffective since I'm laying down and he knows it.

"Trust me I hate you more."

He groans, finally leaving me alone. I roll over in bed. "Just because our dad is Apollo doesn't mean you have to rise with him. Wait- let me rephrase that- _I _don't have to."

"True, but we're leaving, so…"

Damn. I jump out of bed and into the shower, barely undressing in-between. My stupid brother always has to be right.

Today's the day we go back to camp, where we'll be with other freaks of our kind. I hate the place and almost everyone there. Most of them prances around, thinking who they were because they were half- Olympian. I couldn't give a crap. I hated it.

Alex is fifteen and I would turn fourteen August 2nd. We were close in age because of a punishment. Aphrodite had been dating my dad, which wasn't uncommon because almost all of the Olympians slept with each other even though they're brothers and sisters and cousins. I know- ech. So Aphrodite pissed off Artemis, who happened to be the goddess of childbirth. My parents had a fling (well, really more of a relationship, but since my dad already had a girlfriend…) and… Bam! My mom was pregnant at 23 with Alex, and Aphrodite's boyfriend was a baby daddy…again.

In my dad's eyes, Artemis could do no wrong, so he broke up with Aphrodite, reasoning that if she hadn't pissed off Artemis, my mom would never have gotten pregnant. Aphrodite laid low for a while and plotted over the convenient course of nine months.

Aphrodite was close with Hera, another goddess of childbirth, and pulled out the crocodile tears. Luckily for her, Hera had enough jealousy for the both of them. Unfortunately for my mom, my dad visited her again soon after she had Alex (gods can't live on Earth). My dad always claimed he loved my mom more than any other mortal he'd ever met. Both my mom and brother chose to believe it, but I never did.

The story goes my dad was incredibly lovesick and lost without my mom. They decided to get back together, and Hera pulled some strings, copying Artemis' original plan to piss off Aphrodite, but twisting it so that she almost ruined my mom's life at 26 when she had me. My mom became frantic for money, and Aphrodite knew it. We were almost turned out on the streets. My dad stole and stole and stole (a little here, a little there…) with the convenient help of his brother, the god of thieves, and gave my mom thousands of dollars. Well, actually, thousands of drachmas.

Yeah, solid gold. That's how my dad made up for impregnating my mom twice.

Thing number two I hate about my dad, thing one being how he had multiple "loves of his life." My mom opened a restaurant, cooking five days of the week and witnessing the other two, and made enough money to live off of as a single mom. It was enough so that Alex and I didn't go without, but my mom's end of the deal came up short multiple times.

I rushed out of the bathroom, covered in only my towel. "Mom, have you seen my flip-flops?"

She nodded, knowing which ones already. She groaned as she stooped to pick them up, holding her back as she did so. She was six months pregnant, and no, not by Apollo again, thank the gods. A few years ago, my mom married Mike. I had no complaints. I actually really liked the guy. He owned a gym across town and got along well with Alex and I. He'd helped me practice when I was preparing to try out for the school soccer team, took Alex and I to Yankee games, and was really good to my mom. You could see how much he loved her when he looked at her…And he wasn't my dad.

Thing number three I hate about my dad- he named me. My mom named my brother because she was stubbornly stuck on the name Alex, a name she'd picked out years ago, predetermined for the son she wanted in the future. My dad and his stupid love for poetry had the idea of alliteration in his head. Naturally, since Apollo's son was Alex, Charlotte's daughter would be… Cassandra.

Yeah…I go by Cassie…

I'd always hated my name. I actually preferred my middle name, Jade. I was considering legally changing it to Jade when I got older just to ruin the carefully plotted letter play and Greek streak of our family names. I don't know what kind of name Charlotte is, but I'm pretty sure it's not Greek, and as long as it isn't Greek, I don't care.

I throw on a black tank top that is purposely bleached to look acid-soaked, a royal blue zip-up hoodie, some shorts and the flip-flops. Everything else was packed for camp. I load my arms up with my bags and head for the front door.

Alex and I crammed our stuff into the 2/3 of the backseat that was behind the driver's seat. My brother sat up front, and I was about to pass out from the heat in the back, right behind him.

My mom land Mike were slowly making their way down the stairs. She gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and then he heads inside, waving us off. She gets in and starts driving with a quick "Is everyone all set?" after throwing her silky blond hair in a ponytail. My mom's honey-sweet voice sounded like an aria sung by a choir of birds. Her eyes are gorgeous, the same crystalline sky-blue my brother inherited. I got saddled with the weird, misty, stormy, blue-gray-green combo. The undesirables. My moms lips look like the petals of a little rose bud. Delicate, elegant, rounded and rosy. She wasn't very tall, only a little shorter than me. My brother's girlfriend towers over her, but then again she's got one of the longest pair of legs I've ever seen on a girl in person. My mom absolutely loves her, as does Mike. I think she's alright personally, sweet if nothing else. My mom raves to Alex how he "shouldn't let this one go." My mom has no idea how much those words hurt my brother. What she means is one thing, what my brother thinks is another.

His ex-girlfriend, Christa, met my parents last year. She died in battle last year at Camp Half-Blood. I managed to remain unscathed- a few scratches, four stitches, and a sprained wrist, but for Camp Half-Blood, that _is _unscathed. Both Alex and his girlfriend, Shailene, were in bad shape last year, worse than me anyway. Alex almost died last year because he couldn't find Shailene on the battle field. Shailene and I took care of him on shift-like hours. Snuck him treats and let him eat some real food. Towards the end of his time in the infirmary, it was mainly me though. One, cause Shailene and I got kicked out after the bitchy healer started shit with Shay, who was smart not to have gone back too much after that (that healer is known for loading patients up with their pain medication as punishment, and my brother didn't want to become a space-cadet again.) and two, it was hard for Shailene to see him like that. He was drugged up and dying right in front of her. Honestly, if Shailene had been able to handle it, I wouldn't have gone as much either, but one of us had to, so I stepped up.

Bottom line: I like her enough. She's got some strong opinions, but she's sweet and good to my brother, who's crazy about her. It's so like my brother to find a girl who is one of… us. I continue to pray if I ever meet anyone, it would be a mortal man so if we ever had children, the 50% Olympian heritage would dwindle considerably within the family bloodlines.

I jam my ear buds into my ears to pretend I'm listening to music and stretch out in the back seat - as much as I can, anyway. My brother and mom are talkers. I'm not. I close my eyes and let the rhythmic bumps of the tires beneath me lull me to sleep.


End file.
